


Out of the Bag

by kelleigh (girlfromcarolina)



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Kissing, Living Together, M/M, Masturbation, Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:22:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21945805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlfromcarolina/pseuds/kelleigh
Summary: Ten seconds changed Jensen Ackles' life. This is the story of how.
Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki
Comments: 13
Kudos: 160
Collections: 2019 Supernatural & CWRPF Holiday Exchange, SPN J2 Xmas Exchange





	Out of the Bag

**Author's Note:**

  * For [glovered](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glovered/gifts).



> Written for **glovered** for the 2019 spn-j2-xmas exchange. I hope you enjoy this little non-AU tale of J2 getting together! I tried to combine a couple elements from your J2 prompts, and I enjoyed the result ♥ MERRY CHRISTMAS!
> 
> Thanks to dugindeep for the Christmas Eve beta!

Ten seconds. Ten _fucking_ seconds. That’s all it took to turn Jensen Ackles’ life inside-out, and just when things were going so smoothly, too.

He’s in Vancouver filming the second half of their fifth season, an achievement he never could have imagined years ago while he was shooting the pilot alongside another eager, C-list young actor from Texas. These days, he and Jared have a rhythm; they work hard to hit their deadlines, never losing sight of the bigger picture, while keeping the mood on set light and cheerful. Jensen likes his job, he adores the people around him, and he’s found a best friend in Jared Padalecki.

Sure, there have been bumps along the way. Jared’s short-lived relationship with last season’s Ruby was one of the roughest patches, but that fizzled out after Genevieve took a role on a new show filming in Toronto. This season, the scripts are tight, Jared and Jensen’s scenes are clicking, and life has been good.

Until right now. 

It’d been an unremarkable Tuesday so far, and the crew was about ready to wrap up for the night. But they needed Jared back on set, and Jensen had offered to retrieve his on-screen brother for one final shot. Jensen headed straight for the Expedition where he knew Jared would be waiting, probably half asleep, for Jensen to finish up and join him for the ride back to their shared house. (They might live in each other’s pockets, but it certainly made everything more convenient.)

If only Jensen had waited. If only the crew could have gotten the right shot without Jared in the frame. If only Jensen had texted or knocked or _something_. He wouldn’t have opened the rear passenger door of the massive SUV, a clever comment on his lips, and felt his brain short-circuit at the scene in front of him.

Ten seconds felt like a fucking eternity as Jensen stared at Jared in the backseat, legs sprawled, zipper undone, phone propped on the seat beside him where Jensen had a clear view of the screen. Ten seconds of intense eye contact that was at once invasive and disarming. Ten seconds for Jensen to realize what he was seeing and slam the door closed.

“ _Fuck. Goddammit._ ” Now, Jensen can hear Jared cursing inside the Expedition. The car rocks ever so slightly as six-and-a-half feet of agitated Texan tries to rearrange himself. Before the door opens and Jared undoubtedly starts attempting to explain himself, Jensen is already spinning on his heel and striding away, yelling back, “Get your ass back on set!”

He doesn’t stop until he’s standing in this week’s graveyard, eyes down on his mark spray-painted on the dry grass. He hears Jared loping onto set muttering breathless apologies, wearing Sam Winchester’s clothes again, and feels the earth move a fraction beneath his feet, but doesn’t look up. The scene doesn’t require any lines or action beyond moving from their marks towards the parked Impala so that the SFX crew can add their agitated spirit later, and Jensen is grateful that it doesn’t take more than five minutes to finish, until he realizes that the next stop after wardrobe is the Expedition and then home. Where he lives _with Jared_.

Once they’re released, Jensen stomps back to wardrobe, ignoring Jared’s attempts to start a conversation. There’s nothing he can say that would feel normal after what just happened. In the trailer, he strips silently and efficiently, all while feeling the pin-prick of Jared’s stare at his back. They’ve done this hundreds of times without thinking—dressed and undressed, decompressing or commiserating—but the routine is _off_ tonight. He can’t get out of wardrobe fast enough, rushing towards the road where the Expedition is parked.

“Jensen?” Jared’s hesitant urging clues Jensen in to the fact that he’s been standing motionless beside the SUV for more than a minute, long enough for Jared to catch up with him. 

“Let’s just get the hell out of here.” It’s the only thing Jensen can say without cracking or cursing Jared for their current predicament. He climbs into the front passenger seat and pulls out his phone, leaving Jared to sit in the back by himself.

Their driver glances at Jared in the rearview mirror, then over at Jensen, but says nothing. The guy is a professional; he’s seen weirder shit than coworkers having a spat.

The ride to the house is tense and silent. Jensen’s thoughts circle back to what he saw: Jared in the backseat—the one he’s sitting in now, probably fretting because Jensen won’t turn around and talk to him—watching _that_ while his hand was between his legs…

Jensen throws up a roadblock before his mind can go any further. Not here, not now.

At the house, it gets even worse. As the Expedition pulls away, Jared follows Jensen through the garage and into the kitchen where they’d usually crack open a couple of beers if they weren’t dead on their feet, or head into the shared den to watch a movie before going to their separate floors. Tonight, Jensen can’t break away fast enough, desperate for the chance to be alone with his chaotic thoughts so he can put them back in their proper places. Emotions and urges are all jumbled, and certain ideas that Jensen normally keeps shelved far to the back of his mind have shaken loose.

Jared has other ideas, because nothing about this is going to be easy. He reaches out for Jensen’s shoulder, dropping his hand almost immediately when Jensen spins and backs up against the counter. 

“Hold on, you don’t need to run away.”

“I’m tired,” Jensen lies. He needs to be in a place where he doesn’t have to meet Jared’s stare. When their eyes meet, Jensen’s staring into the SUV all over again, watching the way Jared’s gaze shifts from hazy to panicked. Jensen is still too raw for that kind of eye contact—he’s like an exposed nerve.

“Let’s talk about this.”

“Let’s not.” To Jensen, it honestly sounds like the better plan. They’ve _never_ talked about it. Not while they were shooting the pilot and felt that spark whenever they were on set together. Or a few years in when their bond became unbreakable and everyone joked that they were closer than Sam and Dean themselves. Or last year when Jared tried to make it work with Genevieve and Jensen felt a loss he couldn’t share with his best friend.

“Give me a break, Jensen.” Jared sounds exasperated, yet there’s a nervous edge to his tired drawl that doesn’t escape Jensen’s notice. “It’s not that big of a deal. I just needed to relax a little. The way we’re filming right now, I barely get the chance. I’m always too tired when I come home.”

The mental video of Jared taking care of his own needs is streaming on a loop in Jensen’s head, only now the picture’s been fleshed out with details he never could have imagined before, thanks to the little show he barged in on only a few hours ago.

Jensen covers his sudden flush with a scoff. “So, you decided to jack off in our ride?”

Jared shrugs. “Guess I wasn’t thinking straight.” 

As far as attempts at making jokes go, it blows. Sucks. And holy hell, Jensen needs to stop thinking in those terms. He groans instead. Nothing about this is _straight._ Not with what he actually saw playing on Jared’s phone while he had his dick in his hand.

“We’re not doing this right now,” Jensen asserts through gritted teeth. “Let’s just pretend it never happened.”

Jared appears ready to argue, but thinks better of it. They barely talk while they each forage and cook their own dinners, eating in front of the massive television because that’s what they usually do and Jensen wants something normal. The football game on the screen in the only safe topic of conversation. As soon as he can, though, Jensen gets the hell out of there. He retreats to his part of the house, putting as many closed doors and stairs as possible between him and his co-star-slash-roommate.

Being alone with his thoughts isn’t as much of a relief as he thought it would be. Jensen tries to distract himself with emails, schedules, and YouTube, but the task proves to be impossible. There’s a flutter in his chest that won’t leave him alone, his pulse is racing, and he can feel the lazy curl of arousal slowly making its way south even as he tries to shut down his body’s response. 

He can’t do that—not tonight. _It wouldn’t be the first time_ , the devil on his shoulder insists in a sultry whisper. The angel who’s supposed to sit on his other side is nowhere to be found.

And yet, Jensen’s body won’t quit until he does something about it, and that same devil is telling him that a cold shower won’t cut it. Guilt and shame are both present and accounted for, but they’re hardly deterrents compared to the spike in Jensen’s arousal. He strips out of his shirt and jeans and falls back onto his bed, shoving pillows aside until he’s reclining with his gaze on the ceiling.

He doesn’t need to turn on any porn or grab his phone to search for a little stress relief. Tonight, everything Jensen requires is already in his head. His glimpse may have only lasted ten earth-shattering seconds, but it’s more than enough.

Jared’s pants were undone, his underwear barely shoved down and out of the way, leaving just enough room for his hand to fit around his cock. Tanned fingers around pale, flushed skin, confident strokes in time with the moans coming from Jared’s phone as the two men on the screen screwed each other’s brains out.

Remembered details fly at Jensen as he finally gives into his urges and touches himself. No teasing, no getting in the mood—he’s passed all of that. His need is too great, cock thick and hard surrounded by his fist. He takes a breath, thinks back to how fast Jared was stroking, and sets the same rhythm. He doesn’t know whether to imagine Jared’s hand on him, or vice versa. Or, for an even more spine-meltingly hot image, Jensen pictures them watching and encouraging one another with breathless, filthy whispers. They both fit in the back of the Expedition, but it would be a tight fit. Pressed together from shoulder to thigh, pulses felt at the surface of their skin, eyes on one another and mouths watering.

Jensen jerks out of his own grip; no sense coming too early when he’s got so much to think about. He’s kept a lid on his attraction to his co-star for this long, but catching Jared beating his meat to a gay porn that looks awfully close to something in Jensen’s hidden collection blew that right off.

Slower now, hitting all the right spots, Jensen shuts his eyes and lets the image reform. Jared’s cock, straight out of Jensen’s fantasies, is something he could really wrap his mouth around. Maybe even struggle a bit to take it all, just the way he likes it. He knows the rest of Jared’s body thanks to years of sharing the same spaces and schedules. However, he’s never seen Jared jerking off, and the eyeful Jensen got today of his right arm flexed, muscles bunched and tight as he fucked his own fist, stands out from the rest. Rounded biceps disappearing beneath his short sleeves, dark hair getting thicker towards his wrists, and a map of veins through which his blood pumped hard and steady.

Jensen’s jaw aches. He imagines crawling into the backseat instead of standing there in a stupor before walking away, wonders how Jared would have reacted if Jensen covered Jared’s hand with his own and helped Jared get off. Felt the strength in those muscles as Jared reached his peak and came all over himself.

So much for making it last; Jensen never stood a chance. After being on edge for what feels like hours, his orgasm comes as a tremendous relief, spine arching in pleasure as he coats his hand with streaks of white. The devil is back on his shoulder, asking what would happen if Jensen were to take a picture and send it to Jared.

_See what you made me do?_

Jensen brushes the devil away. He won’t throw away the best thing that’s ever happened to him for one moment of lust-fueled stupidity. There’s a part of him that still wonders, though, because five years worth of traded glances and almost-moments could add up to something monumental. In the rational part of Jensen’s mind, however, the risk still outweighs the hope, and the show comes first. Too many people are counting on them not to fuck things up.

At least now, Jensen has a hell of a lot more in his mental catalog for these lonely Vancouver nights.

He moves sluggishly as he gets ready for bed and goes over the next day’s schedule. Another grueling day of shooting, most of it with Jared, and Jensen hopes that a good eight hours of sleep will erase everything that happened today and prevent any awkwardness tomorrow. Although, after what he just did, he might not be able to look Jared in the eyes for a little while.

But that’s a problem for tomorrow, and Jensen can’t fight the pull as sleep drags him under.

~~~

They’ve wrapped for the day, and Jensen hasn’t seen Jared in nearly an hour. For all he knows, Jared asked their driver to take him home before coming back to the set to pick up Jensen.

It’s been a hell of a day. Sleep hadn’t helped Jensen put yesterday’s upheaval behind him. If anything, he thought about it more, having to act side-by-side with Jared in a few physically demanding scenes. Every time he caught Jared flexing, Jensen was forced to choke back a flare of _want_. He botched more than one take because he couldn’t keep his eyes off various parts of Jared’s anatomy. Not even a fifteen-minute break in his trailer and a serious talk with his reflection made a difference. Jensen hopes the director is able to salvage something from his mess.

After changing out of Dean’s clothes and sending Jared a carefully worded text saying he was finished for the day, Jensen walks off set and finds the Expedition parked in the same spot as yesterday. Jensen takes a deep breath and approaches the SUV, heading for his usual seat. He opens the door and feels the hope inside him wither when he finds the vehicle completely empty.

Robbed of the last of his energy, Jensen slumps against the doorframe.

“Expecting something else?” The low whisper, so close to Jensen’s ear that he feels the curl of hot breath, sends a shiver straight down to his toes.

He’s frozen, and can’t turn to face Jared when he says, “Just trying to avoid another show.”

“Are you sure about that?” The tone of Jared’s voice is a one-eighty from his over-apologetic hesitance yesterday, and it sends Jensen’s stomach for a loop. 

Jensen groans, blood rushing south as he thinks about what Jared is implying, but Jared takes the sound the wrong way.

“Shit, Jensen, I’m sorry,” he rushes to apologize. “After the way you looked at me today, I thought maybe you wanted this, that you felt the same way—fuck, I’m such an idiot.”

Jared continues cursing himself, and Jensen can’t take it anymore. He spins around, grabs Jared by the collar of his shirt, and drags him in for a kiss. It’s not all that pleasant—too much heat and too much teeth—but it gets the point across.

“You gonna shut up now?”

“That depends.” Jared leans closer. “Are you gonna kiss me again if I keep talking?”

Jensen does, melting into the way Jared pushes him against the Expedition. The move backs him up so far that he’s almost in the backseat, and that brings up all kinds of new and exciting possibilities. Ideas he’s spent the last twenty-four hours imagining with great detail.

“I told our driver to give us an hour,” Jared says. “Think we can find a way to use all that time?”

Jensen is already pulling Jared into the car, knees and elbows bumping the upholstered seats. “Maybe some mutual relaxation? Saves time if we do it together.”

Jared laughs and shuts the door behind them.

FIN.


End file.
